


this city's always breathing

by dainuhsoar



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Witches, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-27 08:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13244718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dainuhsoar/pseuds/dainuhsoar
Summary: when mo guanshan turned 13, his mother decided it was time to read his cards. she laid the cards in front of him, bent over them and murmured something to herself softly before straightening, a slight frown on her face.“stay away from boys with dark, black hair.” she said simply.





	1. Chapter 1

when mo guanshan turned 13, his mother decided it was time to read his cards. she laid the cards in front of him, bent over them and murmured something to herself softly before straightening, a slight frown on her face.

“stay away from boys with dark, black hair.” she said simply. guanshan asked her why, because some boys with dark, black hair were kind of attractive, kind of uh- _cute_ , and guanshan sometimes found himself staring at a few of them. “because he’ll only hurt you.” she answered.

‘he’. guanshan’s mother was talking about 1 specific black-haired boy. guanshan didn’t know which black-haired boy was going to hurt him, and he found it stupid to avoid all of them when a safe majority of Chinese have black hair. so he ignored her advice, and hung out with black-haired boys; some of his closest friends had black hair, and if they happened to be cute, sometimes they became more than just friends. (and then the civil war happened and he had to run, and he found himself regretting not listening to his mother: it was a whole thing.)

guanshan’s card reading was nearly 10 years ago and he had almost forgotten all about it, but now there’s a man with strands of wet black hair dripping rain-water on his welcome mat staring guanshan down right at his front door. and somehow, guanshan knows that _this_ is that 1 specific black-haired boy his mother read about in his cards all those years ago.

the man couldn’t be younger than guanshan. he could have been older - his build is bigger and taller, his face is sharper, and the circles under his eyes are darker. his smile is strained as he asks something guanshan could not catch over the rapid thumping of his heart in his ears.

guanshan blinks, tries to focus. he takes a deep breath and watches the man’s lips.

“… neighbour?”

guanshan just stares at him, unclear of what he had just asked. his face expresses as much.

“could i borrow your phone?” the man repeats, gritting his teeth a bit. “i lost my keys and need to call a locksmith to open my apartment door.”

 _oh,_ so that’s what he needs. unfortunately, guanshan had just come home as well and _just_ plugged his dead phone in to charge, which means his phone won’t be booting up the home screen any time soon. he tells his neighbour just as much. his neighbour looks skeptical, but guanshan doesn’t care. if the man thinks guanshan is simply trying to avoid being helpful, then let him think that. it would be more convenient for guanshan if he thought that.

“why don’t you try your other neighbour?” guanshan suggests, gesturing to the 3rd door on the floor, next to his unit.

“trust me, i did.” the man says. “no answer.”

guanshan shouldn’t have answered too. _why_ did he open the door?

“maybe you can try our upstairs or downstairs neighbours then.” he goes to close his front door. the man quickly slams a palm against it to hold it open, startling guanshan.

“look,” the man exhales harshly, clearly frustrated with guanshan’s lack of sympathy. “i’m tired, and i don’t want to try other doors knowing they’re asleep because it’s 3 in the fucking a.m., i am _so_ sorry for bothering you, and in normal circumstances, i will _never_ have bothered you. but i am sincerely asking for your help because i’m desperate. so _please_ , will you let me in?” the fierce glare he gets in return has him adding, “i’ll pay you.”

_stay away from boys with dark, black hair._

and this one particular boy has the darkest black hair, inky and dripping with night-rain. his eyes are murky and pitless, as if swallowing any light that dared to cast a reflection on them. his fingertips are turning redder with how he is almost trying to grip the surface of guanshan’s door.

_stay **away** from boys with dark, black hair._

guanshan stares the man down, apologises and then closes the door in the man’s seething glare.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guanshan's neighbour gets his revenge (?)

guanshan’s neighbour seems to have formed a grudge against him ever since that day. when guanshan leaves his apartment the following morning, his neighbour is only just paying the locksmith for unlocking his door. guanshan expected at _least_ a glare, but the man _grins_ at him instead, all shark-like and predatory; it’s scarier than a glare. guanshan doesn’t give a reaction, just keeps walking, tightening his grip on the strap of his backpack, as if afraid his neighbour would snatch it from him.

when guanshan gets home that night, there’s loud, vibrating music coming from his neighbour’s unit. the upstairs and downstairs neighbours could definitely hear it and if they haven’t been invited to the party, they would definitely complain. guanshan ignores it easily, casting simple silencing charms around his apartment and blocking out the music to a dull muffle. perhaps his neighbour had already thought that guanshan would be good at the art of ignoring, because there’s apparently a phase 2 in his plan of petty revenge.

the first knock comes when guanshan is in the shower. he steadily ignores the knocking, assuming it's just his irritating neighbour. but the knocking grows more insistent and vigorous, and guanshan is forced to cut his shower short, dress quickly and answer the door in a grumpy mood. he expected to see his moody, towering neighbour, but instead a couple of drunkards are standing at his door and already trying to force their way in, grips on their cans of beer sloppy. guanshan forces them back out, barring the way into his home.

“fuck _off_ , the party’s next door!” guanshan growls. the drunks don’t apologise, simply laugh and cheer as they stumble to turn around. they stumble to the wrong neighbour, but fuck, it isn’t guanshan’s problem. he thought that was that, and his neighbour’s plan has been foiled.

but the knocks keep coming and coming. some of them give up after 1 or 2 knocks, but most continue thumping against the door until someone from his neighbour’s unit ushers them to the right place. from all the muffled stumbling and shouting guanshan can hear throughout the night (even through the silencing charms), _all_ of them are drunks. it’s as if his pesky neighbour had asked his guests to turn up drunk so they wouldn’t be able to tell which unit the music was coming from or something. either that or all of his neighbour’s friends are incredibly stupid, which guanshan can honestly believe. guanshan’s charms can only silence the environment, but not the contact against his apartment, and it’s of no surprise that guanshan rolls out of bed in the morning in a _terrible_ mood.

curse spells are difficult and advanced, they’re not guanshan’s forte, but he’s sure he can dig up a book and learn a simple curse or 2. he calls the landlady and asks for his neighbour’s name so he can ‘give his neighbour a piece of his mind for all the noise last night’, the landlady gladly gives him the name, probably relieved that she can push the responsibility of telling him off to someone else.

of course, guanshan would rather be forced to watch ‘fifty shades of grey’ five times in a row than talk to his neighbour, but he _did_ immediately get to work on finding words that rhyme with ‘hetian’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](http://dainuhsoar.tumblr.com/)  
>  up next: hetian continues to bother guanshan.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guanshan messes with hetian back, and hetian messes with guanshan back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to mention that the title of this fic is from the killers' 'rut'!

it isn’t easy learning how to manipulate weather. but all for a good prank and sweet revenge, guanshan somehow manages to learn it anyway. his neighbour hetian, guanshan notices, is one of those people who never carries more than his wallet, keys and a pack of cigarettes when he goes out, meaning: he never brings an umbrella. so all guanshan has to do is whisper the curse he finally got ahold of after practising for 3 weeks, and every time hetian steps out from under sheleter, it’ll rain for a good 15 minutes. and not just the fuzzy, weak-type rain; it’s the soak-you-to-the-bone _downpour_ kind of rain, just out of nowhere. there hasn’t been a day hetian didn’t come home dripping from his head to toe. it’s _hilarious_ , and guanshan doesn’t bother hiding his mirth, laughing his ass off every time they happen to share the elevator going up to their floor. it’s probably why hetian thinks that guanshan is behind all his misery in some way, always throwing him a (to be honest) scary glare and a threat to snap his dick off if he keeps laughing. he’s scary enough to at least quiet guanshan down into barely-contained giggles.

guanshan tires of the prank after a week, but only because it’s tough using all that magic. he figures hetian has been punished enough already, anyway. unfortunately, he shouldn’t have underestimated his neighbour.

as he’s leaving for work, guanshan opens his apartment door just to be hit by a pungent salty fish smell. it’s so strong that he can’t tell where it’s coming from, it just seems like it’s emitting from everywhere. but he’s running late for work, and just leaves it be. as long as the smell isn’t invading his apartment and will probably fade away over the day, it’s fine.

but when guanshan arrives home in the evening, the smell isn’t only stronger, but there are at least 5 cats pacing back and forth outside his apartment door, or laying around comfortably. they pay him no attention when he steps over them, breath held. he thinks the worst is over when he finally shuts the door behind him… _only_ then does the smell hit him again and he realises it has leaked into his home. and along with it, at least 3 cats have climbed through his slightly-open balcony doors and are now lounging on his sofa. somehow, he just _knows_ this is hetian’s doing. he airs out his apartment with his magic, finds all the cats in his apartment (there were about 15!) and brings them out and down to the first floor, letting them go outside the apartment. he realises that the source of the smell is the welcome mat outside his door, so he curses (not literally curse) hetian under his breath and throws out the welcome mat, but leaves the trespassing cats be, figuring they’ll leave on their own, anyway.

just 1 cat remains outside guanshan’s door when he opens his door to check in the morning. he wrinkles at the slight odour that still lingers. and then he sees the black cat to the side of his door. the cat is lapping up milk from a dish placed for him. guanshan squats down next to the cat and rubs the cat down its back gently. the cat’s ear twitches and it sits down, laying its head down on its front paws. guanshan hears his neighbour’s door opening as he picks the cat up carefully.

guanshan greets his neighbour with the middle finger. hetian fixes him with an unimpressed look and then eyes the cat in his arms.

“you’re going to keep him?” he asks.

“that’s none of your fucking business.” guanshan spits at him, while scratching behind the cat’s ears. “i’m telling the landlady you spilled some kind of cat pheromone whatever thing out here.”

hetian shorts. “then i’ll tell her you let out her pet cat last night.”

“i didn’t-“ guanshan gasps. her cat must have been one of the cats around his apartment last night.

“she’s in tears trying to look for it, you know.” hetian smirks.

“ _you’re_ the one-“ guanshan stops himself when he realises he doesn’t have proof that hetian is behind this.

“hm?” hetian’s smile widens.

“fuck you!” guanshan snaps. he goes back into his apartment, still holding the cat, and slams the door behind him.

guanshan pays the landlady a visit later. her eyes are a little red, and she’s sniffling as she tells guanshan how her cat disappeared, and what the cat looks like. so he spends his entire day off from work looking for the cat around the apartment building, only to return dejected and anxious to let the landlady know he has failed to locate her cat. but she’s already waiting for him just outside the apartment building, sitting on a bench with her cat sleeping soundly on her lap.

“hetian brought her back!” she tells him cheerily.

of _course_ hetian is the one who fucking found the cat. he won’t be surprised if hetian had the cat all along, probably cat-napped it and then tricked guanshan into thinking _he_ was the one who let it out and lost it. he banged a fist against hetian’s door, angry and tired from his day.

hetian opens it, shirtless and towel knotted around his waist, another towel over his head. his hair looks blacker when it’s wet. he doesn’t look happy when he sees guanshan, but it’s not like he ever does.

“you fuck with me again and i’ll fuck you up.” guanshan says, dark and threatening.

hetian doesn’t seem fazed. he just crosses his arms over his broad chest, leans against the door frame, fixes guanshan with a steely glare to rival his, and says, “you don’t have the balls.”

guanshan has to mentally hold himself back from jumping on the guy and punching his lights out. he’s not 17 and reckless any more, he’s in his 20s, working and trying to keep a low profile. making an even bigger enemy of his neighbour won’t help anything. so he grinds his teeth together, whips around and slams his apartment door behind him without another word.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guanshan meets jianyi.

it always makes guanshan nervous to come across another witch. he has been like that since even before the civil war. when he was a child and his powers weren’t strong enough to tell witches apart from humans or other magical beings, his mother would help him by pointing who is what in crowds. and his mother’s a sociable woman, so the other witches will always greet her, stop to say hello and sometimes, give guanshan a lookover. he can’t feel their magical power, but he can _feel_ the sizing-up they give him; like they’re using their magic to feel out guanshan’s - it’s a strange feeling. he told his mother about it, and she had told him to get used to it because male witches - um “wizards” - are a bit rare. her smile was gentle and sad and hopeful all at the same time, and the fingers that brushed his long fringe to a side were soft, almost afraid of touching her own son.

witches size one another up all the time, it’s common for a witch to use their own magic to get a feel of the other’s power when meeting each other for the first time. but it still makes guanshan nervous, anyway. he doesn’t do it, unless he feels the other witch doing it to him and he feels the need to do the same. sometimes, it shows respect to do it - his mother told him that sometimes it makes the witch feel incompetent if he doesn’t care about their level of power. but in all honesty, he hates it. he hates the feeling of another’s magic swiftly running over his body, touching the points where his magic is gathered at the most; and sometimes digging deeper into those points as if they’d like to sap a bit of his power. and whenever they’re done, they’ll have this look of surprise and an air of… _submission_. guanshan hates that they know something about him that he doesn’t, he hates feeling like there’s someone else who knows him better than he knows himself.

and that’s the exact feeling jianyi is giving him right now.

the man is decked in a professional black suit, black tie, black shoes, making the fairness of his skin stand out even more. he has also chosen a black wig, long and unruly, tucked behind his ears with a thin bright-yellow headband. the smile that he’s giving guanshan is excited and genuine, eyes going up into near-crescents. he’s _pretty_ , and his lips look like they’ve whispered a million charms.

“stop staring at my colleague,” hetian says, bringing guanshan back to the present.

guanshan ignores hetian and decides to ignore the witch as well, turning his back to them to unlock his door.

“you haven’t told me your name.” guanshan can hear jianyi’s voice right behind him. he looks over his shoulder and sure enough jianyi is there, hand outstretched to be taken in a polite shake.

guanshan gives in, taking the man’s hand. “i’m guanshan.” he sees hetian disappear into the apartment so he pulls jianyi closer and in a lowered voice, he adds, “does he know you’re…”

jianyi’s smile turns into a grin. “he sure does.”

guanshan is surprised - not with the fact that hetian is _okay_ with witches because let’s be honest, that man looks like he thinks he’s of the most superior race - but with the fact that the witch is actually _working_ with hetian. witches don’t get to work at white-collar jobs. their apartment building isn’t a place where white-collar workers will rent from, but hetian doesn’t exactly hide his affluence with his hundred-dollar rolex watch or his branded valentino suits that are _tailored_ , by the way, to fit his lanky 6-feet–2 form perfectly.

not wanting to disrespect the other witch, guanshan just nods slowly and lets go of his hand. “you won’t tell him that i’m…”

witches never out each other, an unspoken rule after the civil war - but jianyi’s situation is unusual, and guanshan feels the need to reassure himself that he won’t be exposed.

jianyi is instantly surprised that guanshan needs the assurance. “of course!” he says. “and you can rest easy. if he had suspected a thing about you, you wouldn’t be standing here today.”

“what?”

but at that moment, hetian’s obnoxious voice calls jianyi in, and jianyi tells guanshan maybe they’ll meet again soon, turns right around and disappears into hetian’s apartment, leaving guanshan kind of shocked and nervous and _shaking_ as he locks his door, hooks the latch in and _still_ feeling scared, he quickly strides over to his balcony, locks the doors and pulls the curtains close. in the shadows, guanshan carefully picks up his cat, who mewls softly in greeting, and curls up on the sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no concept of an update schedule, so expect like 2 more updates today and then no updates for a week. also, let me know if you're okay with their names joined together like 'hetian' or you prefer if they're written properly like 'he tian'. and also if you're okay with all lower case, or you'd prefer if I used proper capital letters. :) just trying to make my writing a little easier to digest!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hetian dines at the restaurant guanshan works at. zhengxi makes his appearance.

guanshan works at a five-star restaurant at a five-star hotel. he wears a stiff shirt with a stiff collar, and a black bowtie, black pinstripe button vest, black pin-stripe pants, black shoes polished to a shine so clear he could see his own reflection in it, and he somehow manages to wrangle his black wig into a slicked-back style, overloaded with gel. it’s one of _those_ restaurants. and somehow he-fucking-tian manages to waltz in, dressed in just a pair of grey sweatpants, white t-shirt and adidas sneakers. guanshan tries _hard_ not to react, standing ramrod straight, hands behind his back, and eyes forward.

hetian, inevitably, spots him. he says something to the waiter at his table and zhengxi is walking towards him now.

“he wants you to serve him.” zhengxi says.

guanshan wants to say ‘you can tell him to fuck off and go home’, instead, he takes a deep breath, nods and heads over to hetian’s table. he’s sitting with his legs spread open, slouched down in his seat, finger tapping against the table like he’s itchy for a cigarette. his face brightens when he sees guanshan coming over to his table. guanshan _hates_ him.

“how are you this evening?” hetian asks, smile fake and evil. “oh, you should be the one asking me that question, shouldn’t you?”

guanshan takes a breath, counts to 3 to calm himself and answers as serenely as he can, “how are you this evening, sir?” he opens a menu and sets it in front of the tiring man. “tonight, our special is-“

“why don’t you order for me?” hetian interrupts.

customers who ask for recommendations are the _bane_ of guanshan’s life. if they order anything guanshan recommends and end up not liking it, they’ll find a way to blame it on the waiter. he’ll always point out a couple of items that are popular and leave it to the patron to decide, but some of them _still_ sigh, act as if they’re making an important political decision, and tell guanshan to pick one for them, if he could. no, he fucking _couldn’t_ and it was just a meal they would finish in at most 20 minutes, so could they hurry the fuck up? hetian, though, is taking it a step further. guanshan has never had a diner straight up ask him to order start-to-finish for them. he feels his head throbbing, and his fist tightens into a grip.

“i could recommend a few items to you,” guanshan says.

“don’t _you_ cook, guanshan?” hetian interrupts again. “sometimes i smell cookies from your apartment.”

guanshan couldn’t stop his heavy sigh in time. the smile he gives hetian is icy and stiff. he can feel his face kind of cramping up. guanshan doesn’t _cook_ , he doesn’t have to because he always nicks food from the restaurant’s kitchen after work. on his days off, when he doesn’t feel like going anywhere, which is most of the time, he orders in; when a friend calls him out for dinner, he goes. he doesn’t cook or bake. if hetian is smelling something, it’s probably because guanshan is making a _potion_ , he just masks the smell with the scent of freshly-baked cookies. otherwise, it’d probably smell like melting rubber or plastic.

“not at this restaurant, sir.” guanshan replies. “our chef is-“

“how about you cook something for me?” hetian says. “i mean, not _now_ of course, but some other time, back at the apartment?” he’s saying this loud enough for the next table to hear. he’s trying to make it sound like there’s something between them, like guanshan has some kind of _affair_ with this fucking slob of a man. hetian couldn’t care less about what the patrons think of him, but zhengxi is serving that table and he probably thinks guanshan would be bothered. joke’s on _him_ because zhengxi couldn’t care less about what the fuck goes on in guanshan’s life, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. the diners at that table, though, are giving gaunshan appraising looks and at hetian, nervous looks.

guanshan realises then that there’s some kind tension surrounding hetian’s table. the other diners are, one way or another, _watching_ them. and hetian isn’t unaware, his clothes are too rumpled, hair too unruly, posture too bent, and behavior too unusual, as if purposely trying to stand out, as if _provoking_ the neatly-dressed, high-brow people around them. but it’s weird because hetian shouldn’t have been let in dressed like that, anyone else would have been turned away. this is unless… either hetian had bribed his way in - though guanshan can’t see hetian caring about eating at a stuffy restaurant too much - or hetian is someone important and someone important knows that; _or_ hetian is someone _dangerous_ and someone important knows _that_.

guanshan has been quiet for too long and hetian has been watching him too closely.

“i’d rather not, sir.” guanshan says calmly.

hetian smirks, finally turning his gaze away from guanshan. “let the chef order for me, and i’d like red wine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr.](http://dainuhsoar.tumblr.com)  
>  yes, the restaurant i'm imagining is the one from the webcomic.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hetian is difficult.

the thing about pieces of shit is that they don’t know they’re pieces of shit. and it makes it a little easier to forgive and ignore them sometimes, it’s still tough, sure, but just a little bit easier than those who are piece of shit and _know_ they’re being a piece of shit. exhibit a, hetian.

it’s common knowledge to back away a bit when a waiter is trying to clear your plate or refill your drink, but hetian just leans _way_ in, close to guanshan as he bends over to refill his drink, his shoulder almost connecting with guanshan’s arm. he turns his head slightly to watch guanshan as he pours, and guanshan can practically _feel_ the sarcasm and smugness radiating off the smile on hetian’s lips. he’s _daring_ guanshan to spill the wine, guanshan knows he is.

on top of outright calling guanshan a “pet”, hetian calls him to his table every 10 minutes for menial tasks like, “could you pass me the salt bottle?” when said salt bottle was just a stretch of a hand away. at some point, guanshan loses his forced smile and pretense of politeness, and hetian is in _glee_ , asks guanshan to “give him a smile” and “is that the way to treat a customer” while clicking his tongue.

guanshan counts his little victories every time he leaves the table without spilling anything or making eye contact with hetian. he _almost_ lets his anger for the man override his fear and nervousness.

but guanshan finally reaches his boiling point when hetian calls him over to complain about the temperature of the soup, raises a spoonful, and gestures to guanshan to lean down so he could _feed_ him. people are staring and guanshan feels exposed, annoyed and scared all at once. he spits a poisonous “fuck off.”

it’s easy to miscalculate your volume when you’re angry, and judging by the resonating gasp around them, guanshan knows he’s said it too loudly. there’s a grip on his shoulder and guanshan doesn’t have to listen to the “you’re dismissed, guanshan.” to know it’s the head waiter behind him.

“be sure to take the bowl with you.” hetian adds, tone slow and _oozing_ mirth.

guanshan’s hand is shaking as he picks the bowl up, sloshing the soup slightly, and heads back to the kitchen. his ears feel hot-red, and he feels as if the particles in his body are vibrating too quickly against one another.

it takes a gentle, curious, “you okay?” from zhengxi to slowly bring him back.

“i need a minute.” guanshan answers through gritted teeth.

“how do you know a guy like that?” zhengxi asks, leaning against the counter, in a position of relaxedness, a stark contrast to the bustle and noise of the kitchen.

“what? a guy like what?” guanshan snaps unwittingly. he wants to run his hand through his hair, but he knows he’ll only be at the risk of shifting his wig and revealing his red hair.

“well, i don’t know who he is.” zhengxi shrugs. “but anyone can tell he’s kinda dangerous.”

guanshan sighs deeply. “he’s my neighbour.”

“he lives in _your_ building?” zhengxi sounds surprised. “not to offend you, but your building doesn’t look like a place someone who blows 150 dollars on a single meal by himself lives in.”

guanshan scoffs. “don’t need to tell me.”

“you better be careful,” zhengxi says then, going over to pat guanshan’s back. “he could be a weirdo. a stalker.”

zhengxi is kind of known to have a deadpan, poker face, and guanshan can never tell when he’s making a joke or not. but then again, he’s not sure zhengxi knows the concept of a joke because he never laughs at guanshan’s. he gives guanshan a supportive “hang in there” and then gets back to work.

guanshan still feels angry, but he’s also a tad relieved that he doesn’t have to deal with hetian for the rest of the night. the head waiter is definitely going to scream at him and maybe send him home for the night, but that’s the worst he could do. he won’t fire guanshan or dock his pay because he’s not in the position to. he’ll probably tell guanshan to hang back until hetian is gone and then send him out there again. guanshan’s mind considerately skips over the potential of needing to _apologise_ until the head waiter storms in and slaps him in the face with the order to do so.

“ _fuck_ him!” guanshan’s plan of replying the head waiter with modest nods and ‘i understand’s is whisked away just like that. “he’s the one-“

“he’s the _customer_ , you idiot.”

and that’s _all_ that matters. it’s always been like this. even back then… back then, whenever guanshan “stepped out of line” with a customer at their shop, his mother would squeeze his shoulder and tell him to apologise because “he’s the _customer_ ”, that word always had the underlying meaning of ‘deserving’, ‘rightful’, ‘superior’, ’stronger’… ‘ _human_ ’. guanshan takes a deep breath.

“i understand.” he says. the head waiter, after a huff, seems satisfied with that. he turns and heads out of the kitchen, expecting guanshan to heed his orders in a moment.

guanshan isn’t above putting a little _something_ in difficult diners’ drinks. he carries a small vial of calming potion in his pocket. all he needs is a drop of it to make the diner suddenly docile. hetian, though, probably needs something more than a little drop of calming potion. when combined with some extra ingredients and spells, calming potions can be converted into something else entirely. so guanshan borrows a couple of limes, spices, sugar and salt to mask the bitter taste, whispers a spell or 2 as he ignores the kitchen staff’s half-hearted teasing and warnings, and he has a new vial of potion. he pours the entire thing into a bottle of red wine.

hetian downs the glass of wine in 1 swallow, raises it to guanshan in fake truce and proceeds to open his mouth to say something inevitably crude. he then stops himself and frowns, swallows thickly, and then looks up at guanshan. guanshan smiles at him. the knowledge that hetian just drank a love potion makes the apology that falls from his lips in a rush a less bitter pill to swallow.


End file.
